


I'll be the guard dog of all your fever dreams

by ElevenGaleStorms



Series: Summoner AU [1]
Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Always a Different Sex, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Ancestor Summoning AU, F/M, Fem!Arno - Freeform, Gen, Protective!Thomas, Thomas de Carneillon is Arno's ancestor, Warning for weirdness, because this AU is weird, side pairings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-03
Updated: 2017-12-03
Packaged: 2019-02-09 12:37:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12888012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElevenGaleStorms/pseuds/ElevenGaleStorms
Summary: In a world where the living summon their ancestors, Arno goes through life with a companion. Of course, this companion of hers isn't quite... alive. Thomas & Fem!Arno-centric. Protective!Thomas.





	I'll be the guard dog of all your fever dreams

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for weirdness.

In a world where death didn’t mean the end, Arno couldn’t help but feel grief for her father’s death. After all, she would never see him again in her lifetime. The golden time to summon him a few hours after his death has long since passed.

The anti-summoning marking on his left wrist had Arno know what he would have wanted her to do.

She didn’t know what had happened for him to die until it was told to her. All that she saw when she pushed through the crowd was Jean, her father’s ancestor, standing over him with an oddly blank look and a blade stained with blood extending from his left wrist.

Jean’s head had snapped towards her and emotion filled with warmth bled back into his eyes. Forgive me, he mouthed to her before the tendrils of smoke that consisted of his form began to dissipate into the air.

“May you walk with your ancestors in peace, Charles.” An older man fitted with a top hat murmured as he held Elise, her new found friend.

Her heart skipped a beat when she finally processed those words. That phrase… her father was dead.

“F-father…?”

Her words marked the end of her time with her father, at least until the very end of her life, and the beginning of life with the de la Serres.

* * *

“You best be quiet now,” scolded her tutor when Arno began to give signs of snoring. The strict and curt woman looked at their posture. Elise’s was impeccable as always, but Arno’s was admittedly slouched and relaxed.

A quick wack to the head brought Arno to her senses with a jolt and gasp, “W-what?”

“You were sleeping,” the woman’s voice was low and menacing like that of a beast going in for the kill.

“I-”

“No,” Loisel interrupted sharply, “Go sit outside and perhaps do something productive for once, like Miss de la Serre over here.”

“Yes, Miss Loisel.” Arno got up with a barely disguised sigh and retreated to the gardens. The de la Serre estate’s gardens were impeccable and beautiful at the same time. As was common in the homes of nobility, there was the presence of the essential elements in the estate.

Earth. Fire. Water. Air. Metal. Wood.

All of them.

The garden itself was meant to act as a medium for summoning and communicating for the de la Serres in their ancestors.

The one thing that genuinely drew her attention though in the massive yard was the expansive pond close by. The water was tranquil and peaceful on the surface with flowers-she forgot what those were called-decorating the surface.

Step by step did her feet eat up the distance between the pond and herself. Arno felt a nagging feeling at the back of her head to just go closer. Eventually, she found herself at the edge of the docks with her reflection staring back at her.

Ever so slowly, she brushed several fingertips against the water’s surface, the cold feeling of the liquid brushing against skin made something stir inside of her.

 _Go in_ , the feeling seemed to implore insistently. As if in a trance, Arno did precisely that.

She fell into the water with a splash, disturbing the tranquility.

And Arno didn’t know how to swim.

She could feel a presence. It wasn’t in her mind though, and it never was. But it was behind something she could only describe it as a veil.

And all she needed to do was push past the curtain.

Arno needed to do this. For the de la Serres, for her father, and for herself-

She would do this.

The water around her seemed to heat as Arno, for once, focused and looked inside of herself. She pictured what people named Lifeforce as tendrils of red ribbon coming out of a spool.

Arno felt herself reach out to the crimson ribbon and pull. The fabric strained and finally tore into two. The material immediately wound itself around her wrist, and a heated feeling enveloped her wrist.

The veil, a curtain of pitch black fabric with strips of crimson lining it, strained in protest until the ribbon finally touched the cover. Finally relenting, the veil gave way, and her hand passed through.

Her hand touched soft fabric and a hand, from what she could tell.

And Arno _pulled_.

* * *

 “-wake up! Arno!” Her eyes flew open. Elise was hovering over her with noticeably puffy eyes, quivering lips, and red hair that still looked as fiery as ever even when soaked.

“Yes?” she asked after a fit of coughing.

Elise looked almost murderous at her before her blue eyes softened in concern, “I-I thought you died. What were you doing in the pond being in an idiot-”

Only then did Arno finally remember what happened when she pulled that hand, “I did it, Elise! I finally did it!” She cried out with her eyes lit up with happiness.

“You-I-next time you need help,” Her friend sighed, “Just ask. Promise me you will not do this ever again.” Her eyes narrowed at Arno’s hesitance in responding.

“I promise,” She hated in disappointing her redhead friend. Besides, this venture was somewhat foolhardy of her to have done. But still that feeling-

It was not of the success or pride. No, it was almost indescribable. A feeling of just sheer connection, it was.

After her father’s death, she had intentionally sabotaged her chances of success at summoning her ancestor. But, now, she felt that she could trust him and that had to be enough.

It would be enough.

“Tommy,” Arno murmured to herself much to her friend’s puzzlement.

* * *

 It had only been several days later when Elise convinced her to go over the fence and into the orchard where the dogs lurked. Giggling wildly to themselves, they confidently stalked into the grove and “borrowed” several apples and put them into the gunny sack.

The malicious sounds of howls in the all too close made the two exchange a look.

_Run._

Her foot tripped over a rock and sent Arno sprawling onto the ground. She groaned with a wince as the land had collided painfully with her head and made her see stars-or were those baguettes-

“Arno!”

“Run!” Arno shouted back, “Get help!”

Elise hesitated briefly before her eyes hardened and she ran. Arno sighed in relief and laid her head on the cool grass. With her breathing ragged and harsh, Arno took deep breaths before calming herself.

She knew what to do.

Manifesting your ancestor in full physical form was considered to be a rite of passage for those with the gift, typically those of nobility.

Arno was only twelve and she knew this. To do a feat on that scale, she would need to use everything.

Just like that time in the water, Arno looked into herself and saw the spool of red ribbon in her mind’s eye. Instead of just reaching for just the ribbon, she grabbed the entire reel. The moment her hand touched the spool, angry, white-hot heat erupted in her hand. Arno bit back a scream and shoved her whole arm through the Veil until she felt that same soft fabric.

And then she _pulled_.

**_Tommy._ **


End file.
